Classic Poem

In the evening-lighted garden
Paces the Alcalde's daughter;
Blare of kettle-drums and trumpets
Sounds triumphant from the palace.

" Ah! a burthen are these dances,
And the sugared words of flatterers,
And the knights with pretty phrases
Who compare me with the sunshine.

" All things are a mighty burthen,
Since I saw in gleaming moonlight
That one knight whose lyre enticed me
After night-fall to my window.

" As he stood there, brave and slender,
And his eye shot forth keen lightning
From his pale and noble visage;
" Twas St. George who stood before me. "

Thus was Donna Clara musing,
Gazing on the ground before her;
As she raised her eyes, before her
Stood the unknown gallant stranger.

Hand-in-hand, with loving whispers,
Through the moonlit groves they wander,
Kissed by soothing airs while roses
Greet them as in fairy legends.

Greeting as in fairy legends,
Roses glow like love's familiars;
" O my dearest, tell me wherefore
Comes such sudden flush upon thee? "

" O my love, the midges stung me;
And in summertime the midges
Are by me as much detested
As the long-nosed Jewish rabble. "

" Take no thought of Jews or midges, "
Spoke the cavalier caressing;
And a million snowy bloom-flakes
Drop upon them from the almonds.

And a million snowy bloom-flakes,
Lavish all around their sweetness.
" O my dearest, tell me truly,
Is thy heart mine and mine only? "

" Yes, I love thee, my beloved!
Let me swear it by the Saviour
Whom the God-accursed Hebrews
Murdered in their evil malice. "

" Take no thought of Jews or Saviour, "
Spoke the cavalier caressing;
In the distance rise white lilies,
Gleaming softly in the radiance.

Snow-white lilies, gleaming softly,
Gaze up to the stars in Heaven.
" O my dearest, give true answer,
Hast thou not sworn falsely to me? "

" Dearest, falsehood is not in me;
Just as in my heart there flows not
Any drop of blood that's Moorish,
Or of filthy Jewish people. "

" Take no thought of Moor or Hebrew, "
Spoke the cavalier caressing;
And he led the Alcalde's daughter
To a secret myrtle bower.

As it were with nets of passion,
He had stealthily enmeshed her;
Briefest words, but long-drawn kisses,
While their hearts were overflowing.

Sweetest nightingales sang melting
Bridal songs from out the thicket;
On the grass around, the glow-worms
Moved as in a dance of torches.

Through the bower silence deepened;
Nought was heard, except the secret
Whisper of discreetest myrtles,
And the breathing of the flowers.

All at once the drums and trumpets
Burst forth loudly from the palace.
Suddenly awaking, Clara
Tears herself from his embraces.

" Hark! they shout for me, my dearest!
Yet ere we are parted, tell me
What fair name thou bearest; tell me
What thou long hast hidden from me! "

And the knight out-laughing gaily,
Kissed the fingers of his mistress;
Kissed her on the lips and forehead,
And he spoke the slow words slowly:

" I, Senora, your beloved,
Am the son of the most worthy
Erudite and reverend Rabbi
Israel of Saragossa. "